My Angel With A Shotgun
by mymindsofar
Summary: AU. Since beginning of mankind, when God's angel Lucifer was locked into his cage, demons were attempting to free him again, while the angels were trying to prevent it. And so, the Great War arose. The demon Meg, one of Lucifers defenders who eventually got tired of the war, has a faithful encounter with the angel Castiel who wishes to change their world. Megstiel, AU
1. Prologue

Back then I was tired of everything.  
Just the whole world I was living in made me feel sick.  
My failed mission of killing the King of Hell was a bloody little cherry upon the cream of mess around me.  
I am up to my neck in these littles child fights between heaven and hell, the big talks about Lucifer being freed from hell and who is better and more loyal to their creator.  
My existence was a pain in the ass itself. I was wanted by both angel and demon. I was going to be killed one way or another.  
Fleeing from Crowley's hideout, I started thinking about about erasing my existence from this world. Now, miles away, the thought would not leave my mind.  
I did not really fear death, it is just that as a demon, suicide is not quite a child's play. Harakiri tickles just a bit and damages my body. Hanging from the ceiling is only useful if I intended to have a better look from above and would leave a nasty mark from the rope on my throat. Jumping in front of a train would just damage the vessel and I would be in need of a new pretty body. I can continue this list forever, can not I?  
The only thing that may really kill a demon — except for a gun that has gone missing long ago — is the summoned knife of an angel.  
And since all of the stolen weapons from murdered servants of the well-known God were under guard of the King of Hell Crowley (as someone who attempted to kill him, I know), I was kind of in a dilemma; dying painful and slowly from the hand of the demon that wanted me dead the most or finding an angel, loosing all my dignity as a creation of Lucifer and let myself get killed by a demons worst enemy, since I was too tired to fight.  
Yes, I am worried about my dignity, after all. I might not like Lucifer himself, but after centuries of war between the two higher races on earth, I don't really want to lock myself in a cage with a bloody lion. There's a difference between suicide and being stupid.  
But in the end, I'm either caught by Crowley and tortured to death or an angel finds and kills me. I don't actually have the right to choose, since weaponless I am a dead meatsuit anyway.  
It is just the way thing fucked up world works.  
Ever since the demons rose from hell and wanted revenge for Lucifer — who has been pulled into his cage — there was war between angels and demons. And the amount of losses remains equally on both sides. As well as Heaven is running out of his brave little soldiers, Hell looses his strongest demons in the fights.  
As it takes too much time to raise the offsprings, coming freshly downstairs from earth, angels are not waiting there until we are ready to go.  
They are not nearly as cute and chubby as they are described and drawn by clueless humans.  
Actually, sometimes they pick the handsomest (and thus, the stupidest) believers that exist on earth for their vessels and damage them to death without thinking twice. They are cruel, ruthless and it is hard to believe they are still following the orders of their beloved papa. Sometimes I think they are just as bloodthirsty as many of us and enjoy the war secretly.  
While demons are breaking the seals to Lucifers cage, angels are killing them one by one in order to prevent that from happening. Lucifer will rise someday. He will bring the apocalypse and erase mankind.  
Who am I to think about what will follow? I simply do not care anymore.


	2. An Unexpected Meeting

**1. Unexpected Meetings**

I sat down somewhere in the small coffee shop and watched a few humans glancing at me.  
Not me in particular, but the black haired pretty girl I was possessing.  
Already dead by the time. Died of blood loss. It was a nasty one-on-one fight with a demon when I escaped from Crowley's hideout, he cut me deep enough to make my vessel die, but somehow, I managed to survive without leaving the meatsuit. As always, I escaped death with a small side jump before it reached me.  
It had his pros from time to time. I was alone in this body, with a clear mind and without a whimpering voice in the back of my (or rather her) head. Her little soul must be sneaking happily somewhere in heaven, as long as Crowley let her go there, instead of forcing her into a sightseeing tour downstairs. He quite enjoys doing so.  
A young waitress asked for my orders. I picked some useless coffee just so I could stay here and she walked away, with a fake smile on her face.  
It was late and raining outside. And I had enough of hitchhiking all day over the country, since my powers were limited to the ground due to healing my wounds.  
Nonetheless, within a single day I left Chicago and almost reached Kansas City, before that guy who picked me up from the gas station started making disgusting moves on me.  
I _had_ to knock him off.  
With mercy this time, he wasn't even bleeding.  
Why should I shed useless blood? To me, humans are just livestock making contracts and letting us demons get their souls dragged to hell, as well as becoming vessels for us. Frankly said, they are walking meat to me.  
So I do not feel the slightest sympathy for them, but neither do I hate them.  
One of the other reasons I do not really care might be the lack of memories about my past, before I came to hell.  
It must be Alistair's work.  
Sometimes I wonder. Was I good? Bad?  
Did I make a contract out of desperation?  
For money, acknowledgment?  
Out of fear of someone I wanted dead?  
Then again, I doubtthat all that really matters. I have seem to been stupid enough to sell my soul, so why even bother for the reason behind it? It is too late.  
Only my memories from my time in hell itself haunt me until present day. It was painful, ugly, bloody and incredibly long. Going through suffering day by day is not one of my favorite hobbies. For every single soul, it is a personal hell. Emotionally and physically. A soul gets tortures in any way until it gives in. It is ironic that you have to surrender, be weak, to receive the demon powers.  
When one finally says Yes to let the suffering stop, a demon, talented in torture, takes one off the spit over hell's fire. He let one torture the souls oneself. For me, it was Alistair.

I know everything about torture from his lessons. I know the cruelest ways to let someone experience the pain I had to endure. I sure did this for a long time, since time in hell was so much slower.  
After many years, almost centuries, I stopped caring anymore about who I was torturing.  
So many souls gave in during my time. People who feel pain for doing nothing bad but selling their soul.  
Then, someday, Azazel, the demon who even made the contract with my human self, told me that he would let me out of hell. I was confused. Did he know?  
How could he even know? How could he know about how sick I got of those screams, sick of the blood that only exists in the souls imagination?  
I was tired back then already, without even knowing about the war that took place so far above me.  
I thought he would free me from all of this — let me rise from the ashes of pain and regrets — when he told me that we will flee to earth.  
But I was so wrong.  
I chuckled sarcastically, nipping from my cup of coffee, and a few faces turned to me. I smiled at them until they felt uncomfortable enough to turn around again and continued reflecting on the past, staring outside, where the heavy rain slowly wore off, softening until almost becoming mute.  
Azazel told me that someday, Lucifer, the fallen angel who created us, will be freed from his cage, and to make that happen, it will be my mission to kill the angels who come in the way.  
Angels?  
Really?  
I did not believe him at first and I would not have proof for a long time. I mean, who believes that god's bitches really exist?  
He called me precious. He told me that I had potential. That I was born a warrior.  
He was my tutor, the best replacement for a father that I had.  
Teaching me to fight with simple human knifes, we killed so many vessels that I stopped counting at some point. Their screams were in my head, and I tried to ignore it. I did not feel that much of pain, but there was confusing blood running out of their wounds. Red, thick, hot and just disgusting.  
But Azazel praised me, he acknowledged my fast progress. I smiled through the mist of blood.  
And one day, he told me I was ready. He gave me a blade to protect as much as my life and let me out of the abandoned building that has served as a hideout.  
For the first time in my life as a demon, I was not forced to feel pain, not torturing souls, nor inside a place protected by the Enochian sigils that kept angels away.  
It was easy to get spotted by those winged bastards, since they always see the true face of a demon and truly hate us. I killed many of them, in harsh, bloody fights. I killed many vessels. No matter how much I was harmed, I was never hurt enough to get killed. I guess it was just luck.  
Most of my companions that I met later, died. Somehow I always ended up alone. Tired, ready to give in anytime. But I was fighting to survive in this world. I was concerned about not getting myself killed. It mattered to see Azazel one day again.  
Sometimes, he appeared out of nothing, looked out for me to be sure I was alive.  
But those times became fewer, until he did not search out for me at all. He had bigger things in mind than me. He did not care about me. It was frustrating. I was lost. I became tired. I did not want to follow his orders anymore.  
Suddenly, there was news in hell. A rebellion of demons who were against Lucifer's rising, killing demons who were destroying seals. Willing to crush Azazels plans.  
The rebellion was led by a demon called Crowley, and he would run hell for many decades.

Azazel appeared in front of me with a request. But I begged him. I didn't want this anymore.  
I gave in. I expected him to kill me, but he did not. He said that there was this one thing to do and he would let me off the hook. He would not kill me, he would let me live my life, just if I make the playing ground clear for him.  
It sounded so simple when he said it.  
I was supposed to kill Crowley.  
We had a plan, we were in a small group, we were prepared. But Crowley was already one step ahead. With spies that he had almost everywhere, we were infiltrated from the inside and I was to blame, leading the force. And I was also the only one to get away.  
So the plan failed, Crowley almost killed me. A demon stabbed me, I ran, barely alive, and endured the pain until it was gone. The backfiring bullet missed me with only an inch or even less.  
And right now, I am in a small coffee bar next to Kansas, without a clue where to go. Where to hide from everything. I cannot. I just want to die and leave everything behind. As if there is anyone who really needs me for anything but as a tool. As a weapon, disguised as a warrior.  
Looking outside, I noticed that at least it stopped raining. I could move further. Further into nowhere until I find a way to die. On the run just to die, it sounded just so ironic.  
I drank out the cup of coffee and left a few dollars I stole from the guy who harassed me.  
When I left the shop, a demon was leaning by a car. A demon I knew.  
"Hello, Meg." said Victor.


	3. Castiel

I was surprised. Victor was one of the few demons who could keep up with me. In a serious fight with five angels, we backed up each other and were the only ones of our squad of seven demons who survived.  
After that, fought together for a few years. Created alliances with demons we trusted, but eventually parted with them.  
We did some other things together aswell... but it is not that it was of a great importance. What mattered was that we were a team.  
We were, until I started holding him back one day. He said that he was growing, he became stronger, while I was at the same level as back then. So we parted, and I have not seen him for seven years until that day.  
"Victor." said I. What was I supposed to say? To do? He appeared out of nothing. I did not expect him to be here. I felt anxious. What did he want? Why was he even here? I thought it had been a final goodbye.  
"I heard about what happened in Crowleys hideout." said he.  
His face showed mixed expressions. He looked down, quite dissapointed in me, another proove that I was not as special as he thought; but at the same time, he had a slight painful look in his black eyes I did not know how to interpret. But it worried me in a mistrustful way.  
"Why are you here?" I asked.  
"I wanted to see if you are really alive." he answered. Liar. Demons lie.  
"I must be alive if Crowley wants me." I chucked sarcastically. He was never good at lying to me.  
"I guess so." he smiled.  
"And your real reason?" I asked.  
"I missed you." he said.  
No he did not. He was too selfish to miss someone. To self-centered to let someone else be precious to them.  
"A sweet reunion, isn't it?" I said and smirked.  
He put his arms around me. He hugged me and gripped me tight around my hips, his head lying on my shoulder. We stood like this for a few moments. I struggled. My hands were trying to shake him off, but he was stronger than me.  
I turned my head to touch his face with my lips.  
It tickled a little bit in my chest. Feelings that were meant to be forgotten. It is hard to believe that demons feel affection. I am more human than I think.  
But then, I felt his lips near my ear, and his following words sent shivers down my spine: "I am sorry, Meg."  
I felt the knife streaking over my leather jacket and stiffened, realizing that he was not here out of free will. He was here on Crowley's order, attempting to kill me. He tracked me. He waited for the moment he made me feel lost.  
He would bring me to Crowley, I will be tortured, I will die painfully and slowly. This is not what I wanted. I tried to free myself from his arms, yelling.  
"You missed me my ass!" I cried. I hit him, but not hard enough to let him feel pain. I was enraged. That fucking son of a bitch.  
He cut my hand as I finally freed myself and fell to the ground, hitting my head against the car. I did not even feel something.  
"Meg, please. I won't bring you to him." he said and raised the angel knife right above me. Kneeling in front of me, I saw his painful expression. He wanted to spare me from Crowley. That fucking demon. I smiled.  
I felt relieved. I would die by the hand of an old friend. No angels, no Crowley. It will be fast and as less painful as possible. I closed my eyes, relaxed, leaned against the car behind and wanted to let it happen.  
I was ready to die, before suddenly, I heard Victor screaming. I opened my eyes and saw how all of his faceholes lightened up from inside and he sunk to the ground, next to me.  
He was dead.  
I raised my view and looked at who emitted this supernatural power I only knew from a single creature I have ever met: an angel.  
I was sure that he would just exorcise and kill me when he touched by forehead.  
Well then, I did not get to choose a sweet death, after all.  
Well fuck. Things do not always — never — go as planned.  
Thinking I was ready for this, I closed my eyes.  
But he did not kill me. When I opened them again, I lied on the floor and he lifted me up to a brown leather couch. I felt dizzy after we traveled with Angel Express and I tried to focus.  
The angel stood up and brought a first-aid set to treat my injuries.  
"I deeply apologize that I can not heal you in my ways, but I am unable to do that to another creature aside from a human."  
It sounded like he talked through thick glass and I hardly understood what he meant. But the dizzyness vanished slowly and I came to my senses.  
He had took my hand and was treating it with desinfective stuff when I finally realized that we were in a small motel room.  
It was not the best place. The floor was covered in a cheap brown rug, with different patches of drinks and probably blood that eternalized themselves into the fabric.  
Next to the wooden door with the number of the room engraved in it was a redundant single bed with ugly yellow sheets and a sterile white pillow. It seemed odd to even stand there since angels do not sleep.  
Next to it was a tiny bedstand with only the keys to the room and a phone to call the motel service on it.  
The two of us were sitting on the opposite side from the bed, on the old leather couch, covered in hard pillows.  
Right behind me, was one of the four walls, painted in an dirty olive green. Besides the antique dresser in front of us and a closed door to the bathroom, that was all the small room offered.  
I felt surprised, anxious, and a little bit regretful that he did not let me die there.  
Sitting there quietly, I felt that it was a really tensed up situation I found myself in.  
But like it seemed from where we were, he was not about to kill me right now. He looked dreamy treating my hand, like he was really somewhere else in his mind.  
I looked down.  
"I didn't want to be saved." I said.  
He raised his eyes to look at me.  
"You wanted to die?" he asked, with an innocent honesty.  
He stopped wrapping bandage around my palm and summoned his knife. He took the sharp edge and offered it to me.  
What a polite offer, I thought, reaching for it.  
I looked at it intensly and turned the edge to my chest. Now, really. Was this what I wanted so bad?  
I looked at him, more glancing. But I saw how he was leaning his elbows on his thighs, his shoulders conpressed a little bit, his neck quite low but his head raised, eyes looking at me. I realized how stupid this situation was that I almost laughed.  
I threw the knife back at him and he caught it, holding it in his hands.  
I raised suspicions. Maybe he will take me out himself now?  
"Your wish is not strong enough. You can tell yourself as often as you want that you're done with this world. But you struggle. You always will because you just can't rest in peace."  
He was not looking at me. But I knew that his words were directed at me. I looked at his messy black hair, then gazed at his well-proportioned face. That beautiful son of a bitch.  
"I guess we have similiar opinions about this."  
Again, his blue eyes met my own.  
"I... I wanted to cut out my grace. Loose my angel powers, forget about all of this. But that won't solve anything. I can't change anything while running away."  
There was more he wanted to say.  
He looked straightforward into my eyes.  
"But alone I am not strong enough, and I ask for your support." said he.  
Apparently, I am a spineless coward, even though I killed so many other creatures, I can not kill myself. I might be tired of this war, but I am just not done enough with this cursed world.  
And he was eager to do anything to change this situation. To end this battle.  
His straight look promised me to fight to the end.  
And then, he added something to his speech. Less confident, but with the same eagerness.  
"Of course, I will do my best to protect you from any other attack. You may trust me."  
I nodded, smirking.  
"What is your plan?" asked I.  
"Unfortunalty I can't initiate you yet."  
"Will I at least come to know your name?"  
"Castiel, angel of the Lord. You are Meg, I suppose."  
"More or less. It's a nickname since demons usually entitle themselves."  
With a sudden movement, Castiel raised from the couch and stepped towards the window. His relaxed expression changed into anxiety as he looked outside.  
"An angel is coming. We need to leave now." said he and touched my head again.


	4. Betrayal

When I came to my senses for the second time today, Castiel had put my arm around his shoulders to prevent me from falling.  
This was really wearing me out. Angel Express did not work in my favor. As if I would have hoped for that.  
My chest hurt.  
"I am deeply apologizing for this, but there is no way around it." said Castiel.  
"Could be worse." I replied, but when I coughed, tasted the metallic flavour of blood in my throat and felt how it ran down my lips to reach my chin. I wiped it off with my jacket, but Cas has already seen it.  
I looked around again. This time, we were in a small alley, the asphalt, wet from the rain, beneath us, and high buildings rising on our left and right.  
"This is bad, my powers are weakening." he mumbled.  
"Where are we?" I asked, coughing again.  
"Kansas City. Will you apologize me?" asked he and pressed me against the wall.  
Pardon?  
He touched my torso and I felt a strange sensation in my chest, even though it did not hurt.  
"What.. What was that?" I asked, and leaned on him again.  
"Enochian sigils, they should keep angels away from tracking you. My own vessel has already graved them on his ribcage aswell."  
I did not know what I expected, but that would have never come to my mind.  
"Oh great, you tattoed my ribcage. Can you make a picture, aswell?" I asked.  
"I fear there is no time for that." said he, remaining completly serious. I almost chuckled.  
Then he cut himself with his knife and drew an enochian sigil on the wall.  
"This is a banishment sigil. It will send away all the angels near this place if touched with blood." he explained. I did not tell him that I knew this too well.  
Then, he placed himself in front of me.  
Suddenly, an angel appeared.  
"Castiel! Didn't you hear my asking for help? There is a battle on, ten days from now." said he in a strong, male voice.  
He came near and I had a better sight of him. His vessel was a dark man in a worn out black suit.  
"Uriel." Cas remarked, ignoring the question.  
Now he regarded me acutely and then again looked at Castiel.  
"Castiel, why are you interfering with a filthy creature like that?"  
From his mouth, it sounded like I was a cockroach, or worse.  
He seemed too sticky with the angel rules and way too unfriendly to a dear friend of his buddy.  
I assumed he was a companion of Cas and now probably extremely jealous of our intensive relationship.  
"I am aiming to end this war, and I need her help." explained Cas.  
"To end this war, you need to be on our side in the coming battle of Detroit. But from what I see, it seems that you are disregarding gods word and interacting with a demon. Do you consider disobedience? Do you wish to be the same as Lucifer?"  
I heard how Castiel summoned his knife.  
"No, Uriel. I wish to bring peace upon this world." replied he.  
Uriel stepped a little bit closer.  
"How?" Uriel wondered.  
"I consider to ask for help from the humans. The Men Of Letters."  
"You wish to break Gods rules of not letting the humans interfere? You will bring that sacrifice to create that irrational utopia of yours? They already know about our existence, why would you make them participate in our war?" asked he, doubting Castiels sane mind.  
"I am not utterly sure, but I accept the challenge to make a step against the endless battles. It is their planet, aswell." he replied.  
"Right now you are stepping against your own blood, Castiel." The deadly serious expression Uriel showed made even me shiver. But Castiel did not even blink.  
"If that is what I need to sacrifice, then I have to do this immolation." he replied.  
I knew that this was close to become a fight.  
Castiel tensed. I saw the same struggle in him to kill one of his companions like I saw in Victor.  
Then, within a mere second, Cas pushed me back and attacked Uriel who were aiming for me. Uriel had cut Cas' trenchcoat instead, and unfortunatly into his flesh aswell. In the second Cas was wounded enough to pay not enough attention, Uriel gripped him tight from behind and wispered "I am sorry".  
Then, I saw how he took a small bottle, cut into Castiels throat and gathered a blue shining material into the bottle that I assumed to be his grace. Then, he let Castiel sink to the ground and looked at me like an animal looks at his prey.  
There was not much time to think.  
Quickly I reached for Castiels knife, cut into my other hand and used the banishment sigil. A bright light emerged from where I was touching the sigil and in a loud yell Uriel disappeared.  
Then I looked at Cas.  
I sank into my knees and looked at the fallen angel lying in front of me.  
"Using normal people to end a war of supernatural creatures? You have a very good sense of humor, even though you are so dense." I laughed sarcastically.  
Was he even alive? Did my little hope die as fast as it appeared? Was that it?  
I laughed, now in a pure irony towards life. If there really was a God, he was the one with the best humor of all of them.  
"You filthy son of a bitch." I yelled, smiling into the sky. Demons did not cry, and I was too frustrated to feel anger, and a smile was all that I could do. A hateful smile towards this fucking messed-up universe.  
"I... I don't know for what I deserve this invectivness." said a husky voice from beneath me.  
I looked down at him. The wound on his throat had dissapeared, even if the blood was still there, and he looked at me with blood-soaked lips.  
Almost glad he was alive, I lent my hand to raise him up.  
Who were we now? An almost powerless demon and a fallen angel.  
"Meg?" he asked. I nodded in silence.  
"Why... Why do I remember you? I've fallen. I should have..." he could not finish his sentence. I imagined that he must feel incredible pain, since it was still an angel knife that had cut him.  
His incredebly blue eyes looked at me.  
"You... You are beautiful." said he.  
Then I laughed loudly.  
Of course, now no banishment sigils worked for him, nor could he see a demons true face.  
He sat up and looked at me again. His eyebrows were knitted, his mouth half open.  
"If I remember you, my angel life, everything..."  
He looked down, thinking.  
I had no clue what he had in mind. I never saw anyone loosing his grace, and neither do I know what happens after that.  
"God. God must have let me remember. He thinks that... I am right. What I am doing-" he looked at me with the same face as before "- is actually right."  
I raised my eyebrows. Whatever makes you happy, Clarence, I thought.  
"I still need your help to convince them." said he.  
"Whom?" asked I.  
"The Men Of The Letters. The ones with whom I want to form an alliance with."  
He stood up and I raised from the asphalt as well.  
"We need to find their hideout." said he.


	5. On The Road

Castiel picked up his knife from the floor and looked at me. He was filled with confidence that his mission was approved by God himself.  
"Do you know how to drive a car?" Castiel asked.  
"That, and I know how to steal them."  
"Good." he replied.  
We left the alley soon after, looking for a vehicle.  
I encountered an old Chevy model I was familiar with, broke the glass, turned the alarm off quickly and opened the door.  
"Are you coming?" I asked Castiel. He looked unsure whether to enter a stolen car, even though it was originally his idea.  
"Move your little ass or your big brother angel will come and bring some friends from the basement." said I.  
Then he got in.  
He did not even put on his safety belt, still thinking he was immortal.  
Almost worried for him, I leaned over his lap, avoiding his confused face and reached for the belt. Then I leant back and fastened it.  
"You are welcome." said I.  
He did not say anything and I reached for my pocket.  
"Since we need fuel, I got this little friend." said I, taking out a credit card from my jacket. This one almost reached it's limit, but it would do until the rest of the month, since it's mainly will be used for fuel and alcohol anyway.  
"That is?" asked he.  
"Some other form of money. Nevermind." I replied, starting the motor and driving away from the little crime scene we created.  
"So, where are we heading?" asked I.  
"i don't know exactly." he replied, looking out of the window.  
I sighed. "That's a real good start." I replied.  
So where do we go now? Asking an information center whether they know where guys that hunt down — according to normal people– nonexisting things meet usually up and start an Anonymous Hunters hour? What a brilliant idea.  
"Have you been there ever before?" asked I, filled with a slightly frustrated hope.  
"Yes."  
"Have you any clue which the name of the city was?"  
"Libanon. Hidden somewhere in the woods."  
"Oh wonderful, hide and seek with overpowered hunters that want to kill me, always wanted to play that game." I blinked at him and he looked back, rather unsure.  
I was almost out of town, heading the highways.  
"Alright, anyway. I am going to drive to Libanon and then we'll see. We can find a way. There is still some time left."  
Cas looked at me.  
I leaned back a little, opened the car window for some fresh air and got that feeling of being bound to nothing. Feeling free.  
How amazing it was to drive a car again.  
I always had an old rusty car I would drive around with to save my demon powers from getting wasted. I would rather spend them on squeezing some angel hearts than on appearing right where they are.  
On the road, I did not think about all the blood that was shed, all the angels and demons that were killed. For a moment, a few hours of driving, the war was far, far away.  
What a plot twist that there sat a graceless angel to my right, and we both were up to change this world, forever.  
How? It was not a question that mattered. What mattered most to me, is that we were going to try it. Make a difference from everyone else.  
Exited, but frightened, I smiled, face straightforward on the road, awaiting anything that was going to confront us.  
Judging by the clock, we would be in Lebanon around nine.  
"I-I seem to have a weird feeling." Cas stated, interfering my thoughts again. His eyes were half closed, and he seemed dizzy.  
"You wanna sleep, sunshine." said I.  
He looked down.  
I guessed it was a painful reminder that his angel mojo was gone and he would have to live with all the inconveniences of being a human. There were sort of things I did not really want him to experience. Going to the bathroom, cleaning oneself, stuff that disgusted me to death.  
On the other side, he might want to know some joys of the human life. Happiness, taste, lust, ruth.  
Things demons swallow in hell and hardly notice when they come up here.  
What does sex mean when one nearly can not feel any passion?  
Is there anything else aside from killing that makes one be in high spirits?  
Does a demon ever smile out of pure joy?  
Again, I laughed sarcastically, but keeping my voice low. Thinking to much about trivial mess was one of the sick habits I should have gone rid off long ago. But sometimes, when I am not that focused on something, things just pop up in my head and I start questioning myself. Like now, with Cas next to me.  
I looked at the little fallen angel in the trenchcoat, sleeping there, with his head leant on the wagging glass and his arms crossed, crumpling his trenchcoat even more.  
It was so strange how much he trusted me without ever wanting a proof. I could just grab his knife and kill him.  
But there he was, dreaming save and soundly.  
I wondered, what would his dreams be like?  
Not in a cheesy way, but, really, what can one possibly dream in the first night after loosing his grace?  
Does he want the war to end as much as before, or less?  
He must feel weak. Uriel stole his strongest weapon to convince people much faster than it will take now.  
How does he even plan to make people listen to him? He is a born sociopath, since all he ever did would be blabbering with his brothers in Enochian, and now he expected from himself to become a convincing personality literally overnight? Or do I underestimate him?  
That angel is quite some mystery to me.  
My, my, Meg. You became too soft, whispered my inner darker side right back at me. The one that killed angels without thinking twice.  
What did I just become?  
A weak, desperate demon that relied on an angel.  
I was actually totally nuts. I believed Cas. Something that I could only read in his sea-blue eyes told me that he will not give up easily on what he has in his mind, his grace helping him or not.  
Just a few hours ago I was ready to die hopeless. Now, I feel like something can actually change, and that my death just would not. What do they say? No rest for the wicked?  
The night soon vanished and was replaced by an early sunlight.  
Quite a nice morning after a depressing late night rain the day before.  
That surely made someone feel hopeful.


	6. Men Of Letters

The next morning I stopped at a gas station, filled the tank and bought some road snacks for Cas.  
I saw him awakening when I came back, squinting tiredly at me. Waking up when the sun starts shining, huh?  
I stepped back when he opened the door and stood there with a coffee cup and a sandwich for him.  
"You sure are small." said he, smiling softly while looking down at me.

"My vessel, still." I rolled my eyes and gave him his breakfast.  
"You got big plans little boy, so eat well and get it done." said I, annoyed.  
"Thank you." said he.  
We sat on the engine hood. Me, cross-legged onto it (because I was actually too small to lean my butt on it), and him, slightly leaned against it, enjoying his sandwich.  
When he finished, the sun rose higher from the hills and made me feel uncomfortable with it's increasing warmth. I took my leather jacket off and rested my hands on the hood, enjoying a little bit sunlight, while a slight autumn breeze cooled my flesh. It was strangely warm for probably the last autumn the world will be able to witness.  
"Tell me, Meg. Why did that guy want to kill you?" Castiel had finished eating, and looked at me.  
_Give me a break, Cas. _I did not want to answer, but I knew he had no bad intentions asking me this. I swallowed my personal reasons and answered.  
"I'm kinda wanted." said I, chuckling.  
I lay down on the front glass, with my hand over my eyes, then continued: "I tried to kill Crowley, but I failed, so now I am sought after by him. And he, well, he's an old friend, who wanted to spare me and well, kill me right on the spot."  
"He betrayed you." remarked Castiel. Thank you, Captain Obvious.  
"Sort of, yeah. You don't always get to choose your friends." said I.  
"I am not going to betray you." said he. An angel who trusted a demon. That should be written down somewhere, since I never heard about anything alike. And, partially, this approach was rejoined by me.  
"You betrayed your little Angels Gang. And they did it to you." said I.  
"Their beliefs seem wrong to me. Same on the other side." replied Castiel.  
Why was it that I really did not want to talk about this? I was not affected by Victor's death, was I?

He did what he did for good. I saw him struggle. I knew he did not do it willingly.

Why do I bother? I regret what is past and what should stay there.

There was an awkward silence that nested between us. I buried the thoughts temporarily in my mind and turned to Castiel, hoping to preserve the conversation.  
"Tell me, how long have you existed?" asked I, changing the subject.  
My own lifespan begins somewhere in the late 1940's, so I do not really know much about how it was before, except for the movies.  
"I have not got to see so much due to the war. But I remember the first use of horses to get from one place to another, then, much later, how carriages where invented, until they finally produced the first vehicle." He looked at the car I lay on.  
"But really, mostly I enjoyed the short times I have been to India. They have a totally different ideology and philosophy. More calm. More sensibility." his glance was empty.  
Actually, that was more deep shit that I wanted to know. But I just remained silent.  
Then, I raised up and jumped off.  
"We gotta keep moving." said I.  
He got into the car at the same time I did, and our heads bumped into each other. I felt almost nothing, but Cas hissed.  
"My apologies." said I.  
"I am good. Let's keep on moving."  
"Yeah."  
I drove away from the gas station, hit the road and opened the windows because of the hot air that got stuck indoors. After all, the car had a very dark blue color, and as I realized later on, it was a modified Chevy Chevelle we stole.  
"Have you remembered anything?" I glanced over to Cas.  
"It.. it is almost the center of the United States."  
"Because it's Kansas, dear." There was silence for a few moments.  
"How do you even know about the Men of Letters?" I wondered.  
"I... worked secretly with them in the 1960's. They had me to spy on angels and collected information about the war. Not the first time they did that, actually."  
So I had a secret informant next to me aswell. Tell me more, Castiel, do you work for the government, as well?  
We were driving through the woods down a road for some time already when we suddenly passed by an old bunker. Quite suspicious, but still well-hidden. If it has not been for my extended demonic eyesight, I probably would not have noticed.  
"Hold on!" said Castiel and jumped out of the vehicle.  
_Reckless bastard_, thought I.  
I followed him.  
"This is it." said he, looking closely at the bunker's door.  
"I expected something more majestic, you know, according to the name." said I, crossing my arms.  
"Meg, I beg for your help now, you have to convince them to open the door for me."  
"You really ask a demon to enter a hunter's place without permission?"  
"They have a photograph of me in the records book. Convince them to let me in and show it to them."  
All it needed was that puppy-eyes look he had to give me.  
"Fine, but you know what they usually do with guys like me? Rip the lungs out, with their teeth." said I, before concentrating on getting inside the building.  
I still lacked strength due to my wounds, but I managed to get a few meters inside. I expected a devil's trap right at the entrance, but I was wrong.  
How strange. And even more, suspicions.  
The lights were turned off everywhere, but I had no problems finding my way downstairs to reach the wider basement.  
"Hello? Anyone here?" I asked, hearing a click from a loading gun shortly afterwards.  
A trap, what else. Suddenly, a guy, quite the model face and armed with a shotgun, appeared right in front of me.  
I stood there, not moving, hands in my pockets, smiling. If I had to, I would punch him to the ground to make him pass out for the next few hours, but that was not what Castiel asked for. And I became quite the docile demon, did not I?  
And then, there was this slight poke of something metallic and thin I felttouching my head. I turned to the guy so his gun was touching my forehead. The famous gun of Samuel Colt. _You've been hiding well, my dear._ Thought I, looking at the gold barrel.  
"Good morning, gentlemen." said I.  
"What do you want?" asked the voice of the guy next to my head.  
"Talk." I replied.  
"Why don't you start talking then?"Asked the other one.  
"I have no intentions of doing some boo-boo to you sweeties. If I had, you'd be lying on this floor long ago." said I, bittersweetly.  
I turned my head to the left, looked beneath me and saw the devil's trap engraved into the ceiling just one step ahead. They are not stupid, but well planned.  
Then, as a proof that I was just a sexy kitten now, I stepped right inside it.  
"Happy now?" I asked, and slowly, very slowly, they put their guns down.  
"Tell us what you want." I looked up to the entrance.  
"I want you to let my angel in." said I, smiling at the guy with the shotgun.  
"What are you talking about?" replied the guy in front of me, turning his head go the same direction.  
"You know, the guys with the wings and stuff."  
"They don't exist." said the one with the Colt and the longer hair. I knitted my eyebrows while I was gravely confused.  
"Excuse me? Aren't you the Men Of Letters?"  
Both guys exchanged a glance.  
"We are hunters." the one in front of me replied. Did Castiel make a mistake? Have we got just two hunter guys who take care of their little private library?  
"Oh my. You offsprings don't even know about the Great War, do you?"  
"War?" the taller guy next to me asked.  
"Demons, angels, fighting against each other to prevent Lucifer from rising." Now I was questioning their intelligence, once again.  
"Lucifer?" both exclaimed.  
"Did you smart asses ever pay attention in history class?" asked I, hysterically.  
"That is just a myth." model-face replied.  
"As well as the apocalypse and the fall of humanity if he rises from his fucking cage. Funny story, really." I added.  
"You are nuts." shotgun-boy said.  
"No, I am Meg. And I need you to let my angel in." said I, almost demanding.  
"We have no reason to trust you. What if there's a bunch of demons waiting outside?"  
"They wouldn't even have to knock, don't you think?" They exchanged a glance.  
"Sam."  
As if on commando, the tall guy went upstairs and opened the door just a bit, let Castiel in and pointed the gun at him.  
"Thank you, Meg." said Castiel, with real gratitude and they slowly descended to the ground level.  
"Now that you've seen his pretty face, I'd like you to look into your yearbook to find out that we have a real winged sweetie here."  
The shotgun-guy, not letting none of us out of his sight, went towards the bookshelves and took a thick record book out of it.  
He skimmed through, and then, somewhere in the middle, he saw the group picture of the Men Of Letters with Castiel on it, and froze. It must have been on purpose since he could be found out by other angels with this picture.  
"He preserved himself very good for over 60 years, don't you think?" asked I, but I was pretty much ignored.  
"I am an angel of the Lord, but separated from my powers. I ask for the help of the Men Of Letters as they asked me long ago." said Cas.  
Sam silently put down his gun.


	7. Preparations

If there was anything that I hated more than this war, angels and hunters, then it would probably be devil traps. I was stuck in this little cage, that appeared to me with black winding ranks sinking from the ceiling and holding me inside. What a nuisance.  
"So, is there anybody to help me out here?" asked I.  
"You stay there." model-face said.  
"Oh come on." said I. "Give me a break, really."  
I observed while they looked at Cas like he was part of a rare exhibition. I rolled my eyes.  
"What is it?" asked the smaller guy.  
"I ask for your support in our war, or more precisely, for the greatest battles in a long time, ten... nine days from now. I realize this is not an easy request, but this is a profitless battle if no one interferes."  
"I don't thing you're getting your point straight." said Sam.  
_That was just what I was going to say, big boy_, thought I.  
"It is all about freeing the Archangel Lucifer from his hell cage for millenniums. He has been there since the very creation of mankind, and now is the tightest point we ever reached, since many of the seals are broken. Although, there is one considerably thought the angels forget: the essential key to unlock him, means to kill his daughter, Lilith." Then, Castiel was interrupted by me.  
"That means, when one of the races is wiped out — and believe me, there are very few of us left — Lilith will be either killed by the angels or the demons will grow strong enough to kill her themselves." I finished because he wouldn't come to the point very soon. And I was just as aware of all what happened as he was. After all, Azazels daughter has to know about daddy's big plans.  
I tried to avert the thoughts of me betraying him, but it was somehow hard to shake it off once it reached your head.  
"And why is it you, each substitute of both sides, want your war to end?" asked Sam. What a high educated boy, I see.  
"It will bring the end. There are too many sacrifices and no one realizes where it leads. God acknowledges our plans, as he knows that is the right way. And if you, as hunters, want to save this world from being crushed by one of the strongest creatures ever created, I ask again for your support."  
The guys exchanged a glance.  
"We're in." they said. I would have thought that they would at least ask for time to considerate our request and think about it quietly, but it seemed they are suicidal enough to jump into death without thinking twice. At least I do not want to think that they are doing this out of some kind of protection of the human race complex.  
Model-face stepped forward, took a knife out of his belt and threw it up to the ceiling devil trap to break the circle and free me.  
I stepped outside.  
"Son of a bitch." mumbled I.  
"Actually, it's Dean." he replied.  
"Good for you."  
"Dean, I'll call Bobby. We need to collect all the hunters we know here. After all, we're facing something rather strong." He left the room.  
"Research time." Dean said. "Demon expulsion and killing methods are over there." said he and pointed at the shelf where Cas was standing.

"What a nice company to meet in the library." said I, grinning.  
"I'm gonna look for the bible and whatever I can about our little winged boy." said Dean and left.  
"He realizes that the bible is just a book, right?" asked Castiel.  
"He's just kidding." I replied, going towards the shelf. He will probably do some real research about what the Men Of Letters found out due to Castiel.  
"Meg, what do we do now?" asked he, stepping in front of the book I was about to take.  
He looked down, less than five inches away from me. I could feel his breath right beside me.  
That little — not literally — son of a bitch.  
"You're asking me that? As long as they don't stab me by surprise, I will try to rely on these guys. They kinda agreed to this, and they believed us so far. And they will ask for support from other hunters. I think we should lean back at least for a few hours. We need to find out how to efficiently kill angels and demons."  
"We are out for peace."  
"I know, but they aren't. They are both ready to destroy a whole city to proof they are the strongest."  
He stepped aside and I grabbed a book — self made — with the title "Demon Bullets".

The paper discolored into a typical old yellow, as expected from a book of the centuries old organization of mass murderers of the supernatural.  
I found a few bullets that we would be able to reproduce under certain circumstances, and as long and we are provided the right materials by our two — probably homosexual — friends.  
"Huh. Your angel boyfriend wasn't lying." said Dean as he appeared unexpectedly, holding another record book in his left hand.  
"Of course I wasn't." replied Castiel. Dean glanced shortly at him.

Dean sat down at the main table in the middle of the room.  
"So, here is written that the angel knife has some special characteristics that make them able kill an angel. It has to do with this, 'grace', the angel mojo that an angel carries within oneself."  
I guessed that was not news for Castiel, but he decided to remain silent. He found something interesting in a book and seemed very deep into whatever was there.  
"Can we make a homemade version in bullet-form?" I asked.  
"You mean, something like the Colt?"  
"Yeah, something like that. By the way, I thought it got lost long ago, but you brave little scavenger hunters apparently collected it somewhere."  
"Just pure luck." Dean said, half smirking. That guy seemed so twisted to me, I could not really imagine what he went through, and neither did I really want to know.  
"What about demon bullets?" I tipped on the book I was holding.  
"We got empty silver bullets down in the storage room, the rest is more or less available thanks to a few reliable friends."  
"And, what kind of relationship do you have to your giant there? Are you guys, you know..."  
"Oh god, no. He's my brother. I am one hundred percent straight." He quickly gazed over to Castiel and then back to me.  
"So, we got demon bullets to make and no idea how to kill our angelic friends."  
"Unless we have an angel blade somewhere to make at least a few bullets." said Dean.  
I turned to Castiel.  
But his only knife won't be enough.  
"I have only two knifes to offer." said he.  
Two? When did he get a second knife?  
Suddenly, I remembered the day before. He must have taken Victors knife away when I closed my eyes, since it would be too risky to let it stay there, available to anyone interested. Was I really stupid, forgetting about that?  
Still, two knifes. Even if we melted the metal, we would not possibly get many rounds from it.  
There must be somewhere a place where there are at least a few more knifes.  
"Crowleys hideout." I muttered.  
"What?" asked Dean.  
"The King of Hell. His hideout is in Alto, Wiscosin." I explain.

"This will take too much time. And doesn't seem to be riskless" Dean said.

Clever boy, it is not only risky, but just as suicidal as the help you just offered.  
"Not if we go there first and hit the way to Detroit then." I replied.  
"That means making bullets in a motel room and then just hit the road right to the battle ground. Sounds awesome." said he. At least, that was kind of a plan.  
"I'll get _my brother_." Bringing out his relationship made him seem even more suspicious, but I did not say anything.  
But suddenly, giant boy jumped right out of his room and almost ran into Dean.  
"Bobby's gonna be here very soon. He will get all the guys together and we'll see from there."  
"Sounds good. Who is hungry?" asked he and stood up.  
That humans can think about food in a situation like this made them even more bizarre in my mind.


	8. Morning Talks

Dean prepared a few burgers for lunch, and as the bunch sat down to eat, I wandered with my eyes from one guy to another.  
Cas was accustoming very quickly. It is human nature to eat and survive, I suppose.  
After that, Sam showed Cas a room where he would be able to stay overnight.  
During the next hours, I was helping Dean to make demon bullets down in the dungeon that was on a floor beneath. We barely spoke during that time, while Cas was around Sam, helping him with the research on angels.  
Soon, it became afternoon, and Dean's phone ringed. The so-called Bobby was declaring that he reached the hideout, and we went upstairs to pick him up.  
"Is that the Demon Lady?" Bobby asked when he first saw me. How pleasant, it was _lady_, not bitch.  
"Meg, pleasured to meet you." said I, smiling sarcastically.  
"Bob Singer. The pleasure is all mine." he replied, annoyed. I could not blame him. After all, in one the safest places against demons, there was actually a demon _inside_ this holy place.  
"So we're gonna gather them all here now, right?"  
"Damn straight." Dean replied.  
"I called Ellen, Jo and Ash on my way here, they will gather some supplies and be here around tomorrow. Same with Rufus."  
I saw Cas entering the room from the side.  
"That must be angel boy." said Bobby.  
"Yes. I prefer Castiel."  
Bobby stepped towards a cabinet beneath the bookshelf and grabbed some Cognac and glasses.  
Loudly, he put it on the desk.  
"Bobby, really?" Dean asked.  
"Whaddaya want from me? Your brother just told me about an upcoming apocalypse caused by an archangel named Lucifer, ejit. And then there is an angel right in this room." He poured the Cognac into his glass and even filled one for me when I asked.  
Dean sat down to us and drank himself a shot.  
"And... How do you plan to kill angels?" asked Bobby.  
"We still don't know for sure. There is only one thing that can kill them — an angel blade — but that won't be too useful since we have only two of them." He glanced at Cas.

"So, normally barbie-boy and weapon come in set?" asked Bobby.

Castiel nodded silently.  
"I mean, I'd love to use the weapons for their original purpose but well, considering you are joining us, close combat for newbies like you isn't an option." said I, and sipped a shot. This well-known warm feeling filled me from lungs to chest.

Dean felt very affected by my words.  
"I've been hunting for over twenty years, okay?" said he.  
"And I killed angels back in your grandpa's times." I replied.  
"Girls, stop fighting. What are the options?" Bobby interrupted us.  
"Actually, we only thought about melting the swords to make bullets for the shotguns to kill them like with the Colt. But we still need more metal for a bunch of angels." said Dean.  
"And where do you get them on sale?" Bobby examined Dean's face.  
Dean and I initiated Bobby with our thoughts about stealing them from Crowley, as well as I told him about my attempts to kill him.  
I did not notice how it turned dark outside, but while we were planning strategies, time flew by unnoticeable.

Dean yawned tiredly.  
At around two in the morning, everybody parted to their bedrooms and Dean warned that he would kill me I was up to something. A very sweet goodnight wish. I blew Dean a goodnight kiss, and quite disgusted he closed his door. I smiled.  
During the time I was alone, I read more about the bullets and exorcism. Also, I encountered angel spells that could provide themselves very helpful, and I noted them down on a separate paper.

Then, when I became bored as hell researching,I turned on the TV, but with the volume very down so only I could hear it.

It was movie night, and they were broadcasting "It's a Wonderful Life" and as I had nothing to do aside from learning the spells, I decided to watch it by the way.

I have seen it already. There were times, when I was not on a run from an angel, I would get a week off, driving around, watching movies at a motel, lying around there until I was ready to bring it on again. Put on a devilish smile, put on some lipstick and kill some sons of bitches when they popped up at the side of the road.

I preferred movies over my reality. The stories that they tell in the movies are better than the reality. Than where each individual gets stuck in. Life is easier, better in a movie.

The old movies always have a happy end. Take Clarence, for example. An angel who is doing his best to show a man that life is worth living. It kind of reminded me of Cas.

It was early in the morning, when the movie was already over and I had the spell carved into my head, one of the dormitory doors was opened and Cas stepped outside, in a simple white shirt and crumpled wide grey pants. Speak of the devil, or rather, the angel.

He looked almost naked without his trench coatI was used to see, but I could see his firm chest and nice abs, tilting my head to have a nice look of him.

"What is it?" I asked him, absent-minded, which I was. Stripping him down with my eyes until there was nothing left. My god, how long has it been since I got laid? Probably back when I was with Victor, wasn't it?  
"I was concerned about you."was his reply.  
"Clarence, you should get some rest." said I, chuckling.  
"I... have." said he, probably confused because of his new nickname. "But I could not sleep because of a certain thought." said he.

"Tell me, what was messing with your pretty head?" asked I, flirty, with the advantage – and disadvantage at the same time – that he did not get the reference.

"I... I didn't apologize for your friend. I, indeed, feel very sorry now."

"It's not your fault. I mean, how could you know?" I replied, but with my voice trembling. _Who are you, Meg? A little school girl, __sad about a harsh break up? Keep it together, my gosh._

It was just too easy to be human next to Cas. I felt no hatred for him. I did not have to play tough demon _lady_ as I was always doing.

I could be weak when he was around. How in the world was that possible? I knew him for no more than 24 hours. But I trusted him. More than I ever trusted anyone in this world. _Weakened, stupid demon._

"You know... I met him by chance. I was not paying enough attention to my surroundings while leaving after a successful kill of an angel in the forest, and I didn't know there where 5 more of them. They surrounded me, and I fought. Their blades grazed me multiple times, but so did mine. How could I know I was dealing with some real tough guys? I was avoiding their surprise attacks and deeply wounded in the stomach. Not the best memory, I guess. And as I was lying on the floor, I thought that I would die. _That's it, bitch. But you did good. _But then this guy appeared out of the blue. He slaughtered them all, almost at once, and we decided to form an alliance, just in case. First we were both very insecure. You know, trust isn't one of the most popular words in the vocabulary of a demon, even among each other. It's funny, at first he thought I was some kind of weakling, but as time went by, well, we competed about who could make more kills. I am actually quite a badass."

"You realize that pride is a deadly sin?" he asked, smiling. His smiles were rare, but always soft and honest. Even though I just told him how I murdered his brothers and sisters. I never get behind the thoughts of that guy.

"I am a demon. I am full of sins." I replied.

"You are not that bad."

"Excuse me?"

"I met creatures of your kind way more evil."

_It is because I am around you, little son of a bitch. I feel weak beside you, lost. _Human.

"You know, just a day ago I was suicidal, and now you want me to be evil bitch demon again?"

"No, not really. I like the way you are now."

"Not planning to change then." said I.

Was this a flirt? Was he just joking? Getting behind that pretty pokerface was a challenge for me too hard to take.

"Who is Clarence, anyways?" asked Castiel.

I sighed.

"An angel from a movie. He came on earth to help a guy and get his wings at the same."

"Angels got their wings from the very beginning. Sometimes, they grow even more."

"I know, it's just a story." said I, and chuckled.

"I do not understand how humans find that entertaining."

_There is stuff even more entertaining than that, you know._

"So what it on tomorrow?" I asked.

"The arrival of other hunters. Then we prepare ourselves for the journey to face Crowley."

_Wonderful. You always meet twice in a live, don't you? I'd just love to see _you _suffering this time, little King of a broken throne._


	9. Human

Finally morning came. I felt caged in this hideout. I wanted outside, but I knew it would be too dangerous. This hideout is holding angels away with sigils and trapping us demons. When I looked closer at the ceiling, there were a lot devil traps that I did not see before. I was a lucky bitch not stepping into any when I just entered.

Castiel dozed in on the big work desk and I was just sitting there, waiting for anybody to wake up.

"So, were you a good girl?" Dean asked from behind, coming into the room.

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

He got a beer from the fridge and sat down vis-à-vis with me.

"Mustn't it be boring?" asked he.

"What?" I looked up to him.

"Sitting around here all night. Not sleeping."

"Sleep is just a waste of time. I don't get tired."

"But you were bored."

"I was researching. I even memorized a few spells to paralyze an angel."

"You are able to read – what is their language called?"

"It's Enochian. And I might be." I said.

"Ellen and Jo will be here in an hour. The rest is still thinking about whether to join or not."

"You mean, we are like... 6 people in total?" I wondered.

"I mean nothing. It might just turn out like that." he replied. His voice was raised as always, as if that would help him to get his point straight.

"Then enjoy being pierced by a shiny special metal blade." I said, and sighed. With six people we are nothing more than tiny little ants for Cas' angel friends.

"I think that is exactly what the other hunters fear." said he.

"And the fact that you three obviously don't isn't any less frightening." I commented.

"I've seen shit. I will fear no evil." he said, with this straight expression that made me raise my eyebrow.

"Did you just quote what Colt graved into his gun?"

"How do you know about it?"

"I've seen shit too, you know?"

"If you weren't a demon I would really like you."

"I take that as a compliment." said I, grinning.

"Dean, Ellen and Jo are here." said Sam as he came out of his room, holding his mobile into the air.

"They're early. I'll let them in." Dean ran up to the hideout's entrance and opened up.

"It's good to see you again." said he, and I saw all the lovey-dovey hugs they were giving each other and how Sam followed upstairs to join the massive amount of disgusting family bond love they were sharing.

That made me wanna puke.

"Meg."

I turned my back to them and looked at a sleepy angel. I smiled. It was his first word for today.

"What is it?" I asked, harsher than I wanted. Demons reflex.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" asked he.

"I prefer you having a good night rest than being tired all day. I guess preparation is continuing today. Also, I think we you should lead this army, angel boy."

"You are right, they shouldn't be doing all of it."

I nodded.

Ellen and Jo walked past me without saying a word, then turned to Castiel who was still half asleep.

"So you boys gonna tell me that is our famous angel?" asked the older women, probably the mother of the girl.

"He told us he's kinda... out of battery right now, but yes, he is." said Dean.

"What kind of powers do you usually hold then?" asked the younger blond beauty.

"Not the highest." he replied. "Traveling though time, exorcising demons with the touch of my right hand, healing wounds. Talking to other angels."

"You're telling me this is not the ultimate level?"

"The archangels have probably reached it. I... was just an average example of an angel of the Lord."

"Does he always talk like that?" asked the older woman.

"Yes, Ellen. He's... well." Sam started. I looked at him, awaiting a definition, same as Cas, but nothing came out of his mouth.

"Anyway, what's your business with angels and demons?" asked Ellen and finally glanced at me. Disgusted, just like anyone else. I was not that ugly, was I?

"I told you, Ellen. Cas told us there is was war going on. For awhile now, and he is sure we are the only ones able to stop it."

"Why?"

"Because both of the sides are too stubborn and to hateful to each other to let peace rest over them." said Castiel.

"This actually seems like a childish fight, you know?" said Jo as I deduced her to be.

"And why do they even have this squarrel?" asked Ellen.

Again, I sighed. Cas was not yet tired of explaining everything. He told them the whole story over again and they agreed to Dean's and my plan to go to Crowley's hideout.

I was still unwilling to go there.

Suddenly, I felt an acute pain in my stomach and I groaned in pain.

The heck?

"Meg, you are bleeding." remarked Cas, with shocked eyes.

"Fuck." said I and realized that my violet shirt was soaked in dark and thick liquid.

And damn did it hurt. That was definitely not okay. It was not supposed to hurt.

Cas lifted me as if I weighted nothing. No one else moved.

"Where is the bathroom?" asked he.

"Over here." said Sam and helped Clarence to get there and opened the door. He made me sit down at the border of the tub. I felt dizzy. It was hard to concentrate on not collapsing into the tub or to the floor.

"Hold on, Meg." said he.

Without hesitating much, he ripped my clothes off and took a random towel to stop the bleeding.

"Why didn't you tell me about this wound."

"Why should I have?" I replied, my voice trembling.

I leaned into him, not strong enough.

It was not supposed to hurt. I should not feel pain anymore. Why did the wound not heal?

Even though I was hurt by an angels blade, by now everything should be fine.

Cas held the towel against my bare skin.

I was there, sitting on the tub, leaning on him, only wearing jeans and a bra.

I felt his irregular breath next to me.

"Sam!" Castiel yelled.

Sam came in right away.

"Please, do something to stop this." said he.

I felt so weak. So human.

"I am... human." I mumbled.

"What?" asked Castiel, almost muttering.

"I am too weak to be a demon. I am human." I repeated.

"It's okay." said he, his eyebrows knitted. Again, his intense eyes looked right through my very soul – if only I had one – and I saw how worried he actually was.

"Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?" I asked and neared my lips against his.

I closed my eyes. Please, give me a chance, I begged Castiel.

And he granted my wish. Our lips touched and he pushed himself even further against me, taking my hand and pressing it softly against the towel over the wound.

Then, he caressed the skin on my face. I was electrified by his touch. It was so subtle, and yet, I felt something tremendous deep inside me. As if something I was not even aware of suddenly woke up.

I still felt the pain from the cut.

I still went crazy from this feeling I was not used to.

Yet still, all that mattered was this kiss. This moment. His touch. His warm breath against my skin, his burning lips.

"Guys..." Sam entered, holding a needle and thread.

We let go of each other. I never wanted something so badly as to make the past moment last a little longer.

Sam knelt down to start treating the wound, but I took what he carried.

"I'll do it myself." said I. He nodded. His expression was honest. He was also worried.

First time in my life when a human did not treat me like shit and just really wanted to help.

Cas had already raised up and walked around the room impatiently.

Sam asked if we needed anything and after we both declined, he left.

"I am sorry for just now." said I, even if I was not. But it must have confused him, and I owed him an apology.

"It was good." he replied. I chuckled and started sewing the wound.

One stitch after another. Over and over again, until the about 7 inch long wound was finally closed.

I hissed.

"Are you okay, Meg?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Well, kinda. Guess we both lack our old strength." said I.

As we came out of the bathroom, everyone was all over planning again. Sam and Bobby were calling people, Jo, Ellen and Dean were making bullets and researching.

"We're short on rounds." said Dean.

"Rufus can't help us out too soon. He still takes his time. There's a thunderstorm over there in Kansas. All we can do is collect hunters right now, I guess." said Sam after finishing another phone talk.

"How many could you convince?" asked Dean.

"Five people. We're twelve now." said Bobby.

"Sounds good. When will they be there?"

"Some are still on their cases. Ash told me he'd be here on Wednesday. Also, Pamela is going to show up. Yet she has no clear idea when because of some trouble at her place." Sam looked around the room.

"What kind of trouble?" asked Jo.

"Demons." said Sam.

It became so quiet that I could hear the rain outside.

"And the rest?" asked I.

"As soon as possible. I'll go through the contact list again, maybe we'll get a few more people together." said Sam.

"So will I." said Bobby and dissappeared in another room again.

"Cas, put some clothes on." I told him.

"But I do." he replied.

How could I possibly tell him that I could not get my eyes off his abs that were slightly visible through the shirt.

"Just wear what you wore yesterday, okay, Clarence?" I asked again, with an emphasis this time.

Cas left the room, obediently.

I could see nothing but wrong thoughts in Dean's eyes.

"You two definitly hope for some quality time." said he, bluntly.

"None of your business." I replied.

"Then, what about the spells you learned? You wanna initiate me?"


End file.
